


My Lover's The Sunlight

by spockothyprime



Category: Marvel, Marvel Cinematic Universe, The Avengers (Marvel Movies), The Avengers (Marvel) - All Media Types
Genre: Bisexual Steve Rogers, Catholic Steve Rogers, M/M, POV Steve Rogers, Steve Rogers Feels, Steve Rogers Needs a Hug
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-03-29
Updated: 2019-03-29
Packaged: 2019-12-26 08:15:46
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,209
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/18279326
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/spockothyprime/pseuds/spockothyprime
Summary: He isn’t sure what he’s doing there, exactly. He doesn’t know what he’s looking for. But in his life, there are days he feels lost. Days where not even Tony’s touch can bring him out of the haze, where all the lights feel too bright and the streets too noisy. It feels like he’s in some kind of dream, that he’ll wake up and be back in his shitty apartment with Bucky shaking his shoulder or lying on a too small cot in some army camp in Germany. Here, it’s quiet. The streets of New York seem far away and Steve can at least be grateful for that.





	My Lover's The Sunlight

**Author's Note:**

> I'd highly recommend listening to Take Me To Church by Hozier when you read this (it will enhance the experience as it inspired this)

The soft noise of Steve’s footfalls echoes off the walls of the church as he makes his way down the aisle, eyes looking around the room with an unreadable expression on his face. The church isn’t crowded, something Steve is grateful for. There’s only a few other people around and the blond takes them in, wondering what brought each of them there on that morning. There’s an old woman wearing a delicate shawl, clutching her rosary beads in gnarled hands as she mutters a Hail Mary. There’s a man and woman, tears streaming down their faces as they hold hands and light a candle on one side of the room. On the other, Steve sees another couple conversing animatedly with the priest. Probably preparing for a baptism, Steve decides, based on the baby they’re cradling in their arms. His gaze eventually falls on the crucifix and he stops when he reaches the front of the pews, staring up at him. It’s a beautiful cross, detailed and ornate as is everything else in the church. Steve slides his hand up to his forehead, then stops, and puts it back in his pocket.

He isn’t sure what he’s doing there, exactly. He doesn’t know what he’s looking for. But in his life, there are days he feels lost. Days where not even Tony’s touch can bring him out of the haze, where all the lights feel too bright and the streets too noisy. It feels like he’s in some kind of dream, that he’ll wake up and be back in his shitty apartment with Bucky shaking his shoulder or lying on a too small cot in some army camp in Germany. Here, it’s quiet. The streets of New York seem far away and Steve can at least be grateful for that.

Growing up, his mother loved going to church. It was rare that the stars aligned in a way that allowed them to attend. Either his mother needed to work or Steve wasn’t feeling well or some combination of the two. But when they could, it was her favorite time of the week. She loved to get dressed up in their best clothes and take Steve along to church. After Mass, they’d go home and have a nice dinner. Steve always remembers his mother smiling during those days and her face flits across his consciousness now, filling him with an ache he’d long since learned to deal with.

After she died, Steve stopped going to Mass.

It’s been a long time- over eighty years, actually- since he’s set foot in a Catholic church. He isn’t even sure what he believes anymore, if the religion he grew up with matches up with the man he’s become. The things he’s seen, the things he’s gone through, he’s not sure what he thinks of a God that allows that to happen. 

Images flash through his head, of Nazi camps and Bucky falling away from the train and a wormhole opening up in the sky above New York City. His hands begin to shake just a bit and he clenches them into fists, eyes slipping shut. 

What kind of God lets those things happen, to innocent men and women?

What kind of God plans for Steve to get thrown forward in time, to a place where nothing makes sense and Steve is constantly battling with a feeling of loss?

It’s enough to shake anyone’s faith, even- and perhaps especially- Captain America’s.

And. Well. Then there’s the men thing.

Growing up, Steve hadn’t given much thought to what the Almighty thought of his affinity for meeting up with guys in back alleys. There were other things to worry about, other things to focus on, even before he’d taken the serum. Now, though, it seems like it’s all he can think about some days. It doesn’t make him hate himself, necessarily. Really, he just doesn’t understand. In a world where little makes sense to him, his love for Tony is sometimes the only thing that does. If a God that is good and pure exists, then Steve sees Him every day in Tony.

He sees Him in Tony’s face in the mornings, the light streaming in through the window and expression peaceful in his final moments of sleep before the light wakes him and he inevitably burrows closer to Steve, complaining about early mornings and demanding coffee.

He sees Him in the jokes Tony tells, the way he looks over his shoulder to see if Steve is laughing and the wild grin he gets if Steve is.

He sees Him in the kisses Tony gives him, soft and slow and rough and fast alike.

He sees Him in the touches that Tony trails across his skin, scorching hot and making him writhe against the sheets.

Most of all Steve sees Him in Tony’s smile. If there is a God, Steve is certain that he personally created Tony’s smile. Not the one he gives the press or his employees at SI. His real smile, the one that lights up his entire face and makes his eyes crinkle up at the edges. 

If loving Tony damns him, then Steve will approach the Devil with his head held high and a strut in his step. Because Steve isn’t sure if he believes in Heaven or Hell, but he does believe in Tony Stark. He believes in the love they share and he knows that if there is a God like the one he was raised with, one who’s just and merciful, then He could never condemn Steve for this. 

And maybe that was part of the plan all along. Because yes, there are days where Steve feels lost and alone. He misses the times he grew up, the simplicity of his life then compared to now. But back then, there was no Tony. There could never be. Now that he imagines it, the thought of a life without Tony makes him feel far more lost than the 21st century ever could. 

Steve’s broken out of his thoughts by a cough and he turns his head, surprised to see the priest standing in front of him. He didn’t even hear him approach.

“Mr. Rogers, isn’t it?” The priest gives him a smile, hands folded in front of him. “I don’t think I’ve seen you here before.”

Steve nods and holds out a hand to shake. “No, you haven’t. First time.” 

The priest studies him in a way that Steve isn’t used to. It’s the kind of look that peers into your soul, laying it bare for the beholder to see. “Many people, when they come in here, are looking for something. Have you found what you are looking for, Mr. Rogers?”

Steve is quiet for a moment, trying to formulate a response. He finds that the fog around him has lifted and when he does answer, the words fall easily from his lips. “Yes. Yes, I have.” 

The priest nods, staring at him thoughtfully for another moment, before turning to make his way up to the altar. Steve looks up at the crucifix one last time, then raises his hand and makes the sign of the cross. He turns and makes his way out of the church, ready to go home. 

**Author's Note:**

> Follow me on Tumblr and come scream with me about Endgame @spockothyprime.


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